


This Is Not A Conversation to Be Had During Breakfast Hours

by Yubbzy



Category: Glee
Genre: Comedy, F/F, it's fine you'll be fine, mentions of Daddy KInk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 13:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19791736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yubbzy/pseuds/Yubbzy
Summary: A continuation of sorts in what I would probably call the Apple-verse, if I had any plans to flesh it out any further.Rachel has something she needs to tell Quinn. Rachel has terrible timing.





	This Is Not A Conversation to Be Had During Breakfast Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teadalek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teadalek/gifts).



> This is part 2 of a 2-part birthday gift for the wonderfully remarkable Teadalek, who's done more for me than I feel comfortable listing in a mild crack!fic about a 10 year old, poorly written, canceled-too-late, done-us-dirty show.
> 
> Happy birthday, Captain.

"I believe we should try to experiment more. Sexually."

It was a half-rushed, half-fumbled sentence, as well as the first thing she had said to her wife that day. She hadn’t even made it fully into the dining room before verbally accosting the woman.

Quinn sat, silent; eyes still darkened from the early morning, but no longer droopy. They were as alert and terrified as ever. There was no mistaking what Rachel had just said to her, but she didn't want to believe it. This wasn't happening.

Shifting uncomfortably, she took in a slow breath to collect herself and form a reply, but the other woman was taking no interruptions. Rachel held her hand up quickly, wanting nothing more than to carry on.

"Please, Quinn. I thought about this a lot, last night, and I really need to get this off my chest. I know we’ve tried some things out, before, and it didn't exactly go as planned. In hindsight, considering both of our family situations, I can admit that I may have missed the mark in pursuing so-called 'daddy kink.’"

As Rachel continued, she noticed Quinn sinking further and further into her dining room chair. What started with her wife staring her down in disbelief quickly turned to Quinn constantly flitting her eyes from the table to the kitchen, seemingly too mortified to look at the other woman. Still, she pushed onward.

"However, there are many other things I would still like to try. I'm interested in other types of roleplaying - not just scenarios that deal in the taboo. If that’s not really your thing, there’s plenty of other ways we can expand our horizons."

Quinn’s mouth was dry. So dry. Why did she finish her coffee so fast? Then again…

“For instance, I think we could try to incorporate toys, spanking…” She trailed off, ending with a small sigh. 

Quinn felt air fill back into her lungs and endless weight tumble off of her shoulders. She had been married to this woman for two years now, and had known her for almost an infinite time longer.

She was a fool to think that Rachel Berry had finished.

"I realize this can be a slightly uncomfortable topic for you, and it can be for me too; but, I need to be able to be open with my wife. And I want you to know you can be open and honest with me about anything, too. We don’t have to dive into this feet first; I just hope we can start a dialogue and see where things take us. I love you, Quinn."

The air hung thick, silent. Quinn had almost entirely forgotten about the situation they were in; eclipsed by the love she had for this understanding, caring, and compassionate horndog who stood before her. The feeling was obliterated just as it had set to bloom in her chest.

“For the record, though,” her voice had gotten lower; eyelids heavier, “there was a part of me that couldn’t help but enjoy calling you ‘daddy.’”

Quinn Fabray was in absolute, mind-boggling agony.

From the kitchen, a brief yet heavily noticeable clatter rung out through the house. It was deafening. Quinn felt her spirit rise from her body. Rachel felt the earth begin to open up underneath her.

LeRoy and Hiram begrudgingly emerged, carrying a fresh pot of coffee and plates of avocado toast. 

To the untrained eye, Quinn and Rachel appeared motionless as the Misters Berry situated themselves in the dining room. Instead, they both noted a nearly imperceptible quiver in the lower lip, and twitch in the right eyebrow of their respective partner. 

Rachel’s mouth closed, shifted. She swallowed back the screams tearing up her throat. Instead, she sat herself down at the table: in the farthest possible seat from her wife and her fathers.

There were no sounds except that of coffee being poured and breakfast being divvied out.

"Absolutely wonderful coffee, Mr. Berry," Quinn mumbled into her steaming mug - unable to look at the man ever again, let alone refer to him by his actual name.

LeRoy sat, flicking open the daily paper. He spared not a glance nor a beat as he replied, "Thank you, daddy."

Quinn desperately attempted to cough out her coffee as she tried to cool down her now burning throat and cheeks.


End file.
